Just To Tell You
by MyImmortal329
Summary: Carol and Daryl open up to one another after the events in 'Coda.'


Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead, comic book series or television series. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

Just to Tell You

"I'm fine, I promise," she murmured, as Daryl helped her into the room, easing her down onto the bed. They'd been traveling for two days since leaving Grady Memorial, and Daryl had seen Carol's brave attempts at trying to hide her discomfort, but the façade was crumbling by the hour, and when she'd had to stop to take some painkillers, he'd insisted to Rick that they stop so everybody could rest. He didn't care about much of anything at this moment except for Carol's comfort and health, and he seemed to have taken to being her constant companion since leaving the hospital. He'd been the one to stay at her side and make certain she could keep up, and when she couldn't, he'd be the first to tell everybody to slow the hell down.

"Ya might be fine, but we're restin' anyway." Carol watched as Daryl pulled some candles out of his pack and placed them in various spots around the hotel room. A laugh bubbled up in her chest but came out a cough, and Daryl eyed her. "What?"

"You setting the mood or something?" she teased. Even after having been hit by a damned car and nearly dying, she still had it in her to tease him.

"Stop," he muttered. She smiled at him and waited patiently for him to finish lighting them.

They'd stopped at a small hotel and cleared out all the walkers before everybody picked rooms. Daryl hadn't even skipped a beat when he told Rick that _he_ and Carol would be in _their_ room and to let _them_ know when he wanted to head out. Carol bit her lip thinking about it, feeling a warmth run through her aching body at the thought of Daryl being so protective. She could still feel his arms around her that afternoon in the woods when she'd finally seen him after wondering for weeks if he was ok, if he was alive.

"You ok?" he asked her, as he crossed the room, blowing out a match and tossing it in the waste basket by the dresser.

"I'm alright."

"Need anything?"

"No," she said with a little smile, watching as he awkwardly moved to the window to peek out the curtains. "You realize the room you picked only has one bed, right?"

"Apparently the cheap ass owners couldn't spring for more'n one bed a room," he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight a little before sitting on top of the useless heater under the window that was only good for collecting dust now.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to talk?"

"'Bout what?" he asked, his gaze locking on hers for a moment before shifting away.

"About Beth. I mean…we…we buried her, Daryl."

"_I _buried her," he murmured. "Dug a whole, put her in it, threw the dirt back on her. I did that."

"You two were together after the prison fell," she said quietly, broaching the subject as carefully as she could. "You know you're not to blame for what happened to her, right?" Daryl fidgeted on the heater, picking at his dirty cuticles. "Daryl."

"She was just a kid. Wasn't fair."

"None of this is fair."

"You gettin' hurt? That was my fault."

"What?" Carol asked, her brows arching high at the thought of him blaming himself for what had happened to her. "Daryl…"

"I dragged ya to Atlanta to get Beth back, and ya nearly died."

"That wasn't your fault. I wanted to go. I wanted to save her, too. I'm the one that ran out and got myself hit. I'm the one that did that. Not you."

"When we got to that hospital, I wasn't leavin' without you. I know Beth was the mission at first, but…but you were…" He swallowed hard and looked away. "I had to see ya. Had to know you were alright." Carol held her hand out.

"C'mere," she offered. He hesitated, and she gave him a little eye roll. "Just come here." He moved over toward the bed and said down on it slowly, eyeing her as if she was about to say something he wasn't ready to hear, or maybe something he was ready to hear but wasn't sure he deserved to hear. But she said nothing, and he realized as her hand reached out to stroke his shaggy hair away from his face, she was waiting for _him_.

"When we were at that shelter? In Atlanta?" He watched her nod, following him, her gaze locked on his. "You saw the book."

"I did," she murmured.

"I ain't never been good with talkin' 'bout things. Wasn't brought up that way. I just…then you came along and you made me feel like a person. Like somebody worth somethin'." He saw the tears twinkle in her eyes and—_damn it—_a lump formed in his throat. "Didn't know how to be somethin' other'n what I always was. Just some loser who ain't never done shit with his life. But you made me wanna be better'n that. That night I got shot at the farm? You remember what you said to me?" Carol thought back, a little smile curling at her lips.

"I remember," she said softly. _You're every bit as good as them._

"Never told ya…thanks for that." Carol brushed her thumb over his cheekbone, and his skin warmed at her touch.

"It's true, you know. You looked out for me and for Sophia more than Ed ever did. You're a good man, Daryl. We've all changed." She smiled a little.

"When I saw ya in that hospital, they were wheelin' you out, and I just…all I wanted was just to tell ya…" Carol waited for it, holding her breath without realizing, her hands trembling as she pulled back from him, giving him space, giving him the opportunity to think about what he was going to say, think about whether it was right, whether it was true. He took a frustrated breath before letting it go. "I love you."

"I love you too," Carol said softly, gently skimming her fingers along his jaw. "You've been there for me more times than I can count, and I'm so thankful to call you my friend."

"Friends," he murmured. "That's what we are?"

"Of course we are," she said with a smile.

"'Cause that ain't how I meant it. I love ya like…like…" She chewed her lip, barely able to contain the feeling of pure joy that filled her heart as he struggled to find the words. And when words failed, he pulled her into the clumsiest, most awkward, most wonderful kiss she'd ever been a part of, and when he finally pulled back, his hands trembling against her shoulders, she chased his mouth with her own, unwilling to let him go just yet.

Finally, they both pulled away. She smiled, leaning her forehead against his and whispered, "I love you like that, too."


End file.
